


The Call

by whatyoufish4



Series: I Assure You, Brother [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Angst with perhaps a happy ending, Gen, Grief, Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 18:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15515763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatyoufish4/pseuds/whatyoufish4
Summary: “Loki, why are you showing me this?” Thor was beginning to feel a trifle uneasy. “What do you mean by it?”“I mean,” said Loki, “That if you are ever in trouble – if you ever have need of me – just draw that symbol. It’s more than a symbol, you see. It’s a call. A call for aid. The magic in it works like a message, finding me and letting me know that you need help. Wherever I am, I’ll always hear it -- and I'll always come.”





	1. Childhood

“I have a secret to show you,” said Loki.

Thor squinted at his brother suspiciously. He’d only come into the garden because he was trying to find his quarterstaff, and he vaguely remembered practicing in the garden with it several weeks ago. This unexpected announcement was more than he’d bargained for. The last time Loki had had a secret to show him, it had ended with them both being confined to the palace for a month after their “secret” had escaped and ended up in the guest chambers of a visiting dignitary. They’d followed the screams to find the Light Elf ambassador standing on a chair at one end of the room, as far from the Odinsons’ new pet as he could possibly get. It had been harder to say who had looked more terrified – the elf or the snake.

Now Thor regarded his brother with one raised eyebrow, debating the merit of continuing the conversation instead of turning on his heel and leaving the gardens entirely. “If this is another pet, Brother –”

“It’s nothing like that.” Loki grinned. It was not his mischievous smile, but rather the one that came when he was truly delighted by something. Thor allowed himself to relax a bit as Loki’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Now follow me. No one else can see!”

Slightly reassured – and curious in spite of himself – Thor relented, and followed his brother down the main path through the palace garden. When they were halfway to the western gate, Loki abruptly turned, leading them instead on a haphazard route through flowerbeds and the occasional shrubbery. Thor followed gamely enough at first, figuring perhaps what Loki wanted to show him was a new game he’d invented, but after they’d hurled themselves onto the ground to drag themselves on hands and knees through the dirt, he was quickly deciding that perhaps he didn’t want to play anyway.

“What are you _doing?_ ” hissed Thor, when he could stand it no longer. He hauled himself out from beneath a moonblossom bush, trying not to wince at the thorns scraping down his bare arms. He came to his feet dirt-streaked and disheveled. “Is this part of the game?”

“No game, Brother. This is a _secret,_ and I don’t want anyone following us and ruining it.” Loki grinned, with a touch of mischief in his eyes – but still, his smile was sincere. “C’mon, we’re almost there!”

They plowed through another few rows of plants and waist-high bushes, emerging at last into the apple tree groves that bordered the eastern end of the garden. Still Loki refused to say what he was planning, stopping only to shush Thor every time the other tried to protest.

Finally, when they’d gone so deep into the grove that they’d nearly entered the surrounding forest, Loki abruptly stopped. He dropped down to his knees, then gestured for Thor to do the same. 

They were kneeling in a little clearing, the late afternoon sun shining a narrow sunbeam through the single gap in the leaves overhead. Loki waved a hand over the patch of earth between them, and the leaves and loose rocks cleared away, leaving a smooth surface of dirt. 

“Dirt?” Thor was not sure whether he wanted to sound scornful or not. “You drug me all the way out here to look at dirt?”

“Just a _minute,_ Thor.” Loki began to weave his hands once more, green light threading through his fingers. Beneath his palms, a symbol began to appear on the ground, gleaming gold against the dullness of the earth. It flashed once, bright enough that Thor squinted his eyes against it – and then the light was gone, leaving the symbol etched into the ground, as if traced there by an invisible hand. Loki dropped his hands and grinned, looking pleased with himself.

Thor considered. “What … er. What is it?”

“It’s my symbol,” said Loki.

Thor looked at his brother, then at the ground. “All right. But what _is_ it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, is it – is it a snake?”

“What?” Loki looked surprised, which Thor found unfair. “No, I don’t think so.”

Thor narrowed his eyes at that but didn’t say anything. He looked at the ground again. The lines didn’t really look like a snake, but he couldn’t think what else they were supposed to represent. A starburst, perhaps? The lines weren’t moving, and yet he would swear the shape of the thing was changing, somehow. “Is it – is it a fancy letter, then? Like maybe –”

“It’s a sigil,” said Loki, with a patience that didn’t quite push over into condescension. “A magical symbol. I’ve been working on it for weeks with Mother.”

“Mother’s seen it?” Thor fought back an eyeroll. “If Mother already knows about it, why’d we have to come all the way out _here?_ ”

“We’re not hiding from _Mother,_ ” said Loki. “I don’t want anyone _else_ to see it. A magician’s own personal sigil is like – like a secret name. If too many people know it, it loses its power.”

That drew Thor up for a moment. He looked at the symbol again. It was hard to focus on, somehow – and yet he found, when he looked right at it, that it seemed almost as if he’d always known it. “It’s very nice,” he said at last, as politely as he could. Loki had clearly worked hard, and if he wanted to show off his latest magicks to his brother, then Thor was not about to be rude.

But Loki laughed a bit, eyes twinkling. “I know it doesn’t look like much. But I wanted you to see it. You need to learn it. By heart.”

 _Why?_ Thor was tempted to ask – but it was important to Loki, so that was enough. Probably. He shrugged and reached out a hand, intending to trace a copy of the mark alongside the first, but Loki grasped onto his wrist before he’d been able to draw the first line.

“What?” asked Thor, perplexed. “I thought you said I had to learn it by heart!”

“You won’t need to draw it to learn it.” Loki didn’t release his wrist, as if not trusting Thor to keep from trying it anyway. “Its magic will help you remember it without such practice.”

“Fine, but can’t I practice it anyway?”

“No.” The single word came out so emphatically that Thor stopped trying to pull his hand away. This seemed to satisfy his brother, and Loki released hold on Thor’s wrist. “You should only draw it in a true emergency. Darkest hour, direst need, that kind of thing.”

“Loki, why are you showing me this?” Thor was beginning to feel a trifle uneasy. “What do you mean by it?”

“I mean,” said Loki, “That if you are ever in trouble – if you ever have need of me – just draw that symbol. It’s more than a symbol, you see. It’s a call. A call for aid. The magic in it works like a message, finding me and letting me know that you need help. Wherever I am, I’ll always hear it -- and I'll always come.”

“But –” began Thor, and then stopped for a moment. In their five hundred years of childhood, they’d never been separated for more than a few days. Surely that would never change? “We’re going to fight side-by-side forever. You know that, right?” 

“I know,” said Loki earnestly. “But just in case. If anything ever happens – if ever you need me, and I’m not there – remember the symbol. I’ll always hear the call, Brother. And I’ll always answer it.”

“All right,” said Thor, looking down at the sigil again. The magical light of its conjuring was gone, and yet still some part of Thor could swear that he saw it glowing still. Then he looked up, flashing his brother a grin. “And what if you have need of me? Shouldn’t _I_ have a symbol, too?”

“Only magicians have sigils.” Loki grinned back, waving a hand to displace the dirt and wipe the ground clean. “I’ll have to settle for getting your attention as I always do.”

“Doing something to drive me crazy, you mean?”

“Of course.” Loki arched an eyebrow. “Works every time. Like right now, for instance.”

“What –” But Loki was already waving a hand in a conjuring spell, and a moment later, Thor’s quarterstaff materialized in his hand. He gave it a little twirl.

“I believe you’ve been looking for this all afternoon?” asked Loki.

“I,” laughed Thor, “Am going to _kill_ you!”

Loki dropped the staff and took off down the grove path at a run, Thor stopping only long enough to retrieve it before dashing after him. And as they hollered and threatened and giggled their way back to the palace, the conversation was already slipping to the back of Thor’s mind. For now.

* * * * *

It was such a curious idea. _I’ll always hear the call._ Loki never mentioned the sigil again, and in the weeks that followed, Thor was halfway to convincing himself that he’d imagined the entire conversation. Well, not so much the conversation itself, perhaps. But surely the significance of it had been exaggerated in his own imagination. Maybe the sigil itself was real – it looked magical enough to Thor’s eyes, though admittedly he was not the best judge of such things – but Loki’s solemn secrecy and earnest promise must’ve been an affectation, if not a downright trick.

He should test it, Thor decided. Draw the sigil, see if it somehow succeeded in “summoning” his brother to his side. His first impulse was to simply try it when his brother was in some other room, to draw it on the nearest scrap of paper and see if Loki appeared – but something about the idea did not appeal. If Loki came in, couldn’t it be a mere coincidence? It needed a real test, surely.

Thor waited for the next occasion he had to travel without his brother – as it turned out, accompanying his father on a diplomatic visit to Nidavellir (it had become routine for both Father and Mother to take one or both of their sons on various missions throughout the Nine Realms).

The first moment he had alone to himself, he raced to his cabin on board the ship and dug out the sketchbook and pens he’d brought to amuse himself on the journey. He’d put pen to paper and was about to make the first mark when, once again, something drew him up short. He hesitated, pen hovering above the page – and then, after a few long moments, reluctantly drew back. He shut the sketchbook, then dropped it and the pen onto the small bunk before tossing himself alongside them.

 _I just don’t want to set Loki up for failure,_ he told himself. _He’s only been doing magic with Mother for a few centuries, not a few millennia. And even the most powerful of magicians struggles with transportation spells, so how would he get to our ship? He couldn’t do it even if he wanted to. No sense in embarrassing him._

He told himself this, so that he didn’t have to think about what had really stopped him.

_Darkest hour. Direst need._

Thor hadn’t exactly made any promises. But … Loki had. That seemed to be worth something.

So he put the thought aside. Nearly forgot about it.

Nearly.


	2. Before the Fall

“Stupid,” Thor hissed. “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.”

He let his head fall back against the wall of earth behind him. His head was aching, and the muscles of his upper arms trembled with the strain of having his wrists bound behind his back. He tried to shift to a more comfortable position, only to grudgingly admit to himself that there wasn’t one. He’d been trapped at the bottom of this ridiculous pit for hours, and it hadn’t taken him very long to admit to himself that it was really his own damn fault that he’d ended up there in the first place.

He’d only just begun to admit that he might be in very serious trouble.

He shifted again, unable to hold still against the discomfort even though movement did nothing to relieve it. The pit was pitch-dark, for his captors had laid planks of wood overtop the opening to seal him up and the moonlight was too weak to reach through the cracks. The walls of earth were damp, and the ground itself held half an inch of muddy water left behind from earlier rains. He sat in the wet, shivering and miserable, wrists and ankles bound tightly. At least the wind could not reach him here – though if ever there had been a time when it was nigh impossible to be thankful for small mercies, this was it.

He stretched his aching legs, and felt one ankle bump gently against Mjolnir, lying beside him in the muck of the pit. They must’ve tossed the weapon in after him, though admittedly he’d been too busy being unconscious to really have any idea what order his captors had buried the two of them in. He wasn’t even sure what their plans for him were. Would they hold him for ransom? Come back to question him?

Or had he been left here to die?

“ _Heimdall!_ ” he cried, his voice cracking with hoarseness from calling the Gatekeeper so many times. “ _Heimdall, do you hear me?_ ”

But there was no answer. He hadn’t really expected one. Whatever the band of rogues had done, they’d found a way to shield it from Heimdall’s all-seeing eyes. He was in this alone.

 _Stupid._ Stupid _enough to have come out here by yourself, trying to prove something. Some great warrior! It’s your own foolishness that got you captured._

“If I’d wanted to hear what a fool I was,” he whispered to himself in the dark, “I could’ve brought Loki.”

 _Loki_. At his brother’s name, the thought came to him almost unbidden, like a strike of lightning through the dark clouds of a night sky. _If you ever have need of me, I’ll always hear the call._

Ridiculous. Preposterous. It had been a child’s promise, made in a child’s innocence. Even if there was some truth to it, surely it would not help him now. If Heimdall himself could not see Thor, then there was no hope that his brother’s childhood magic would somehow be able to find him in this barren realm.

He twisted himself forward, wincing at the sting in the muscles of his aching shoulders. He struggled against the bonds on his wrists, straining to sink his ice-cold fingers into the dirt behind him.

 _I can’t even see,_ he thought, as he felt the hard earth beneath his fingertips. _Can’t see, and I’m drawing it behind my back anyway, and it’s been decades since I've even seen what it looks like –_

But he traced the design anyway, not knowing why he was bothering, telling himself to ignore the odd flare of hope that built somewhere in his chest with each line and curve. As he drew the final mark, he almost thought he felt a flare of heat beneath his hand – but then it was gone, and he knew he’d only imagined it. Must’ve done.

He sagged back, cursing himself for the hope still beating somewhere in his chest. _Stupid, you are being really stupid now. Expecting help. Expecting hope._

The minutes passed, and still he waited, listening hard, eyes straining to see any hint of light appear in the gloom. As the minutes passed into an hour, and then two, Thor could feel the hope sinking within him – and with it, the disappointment at his own folly. He ought to be coming up with an escape plan; that’s what his brother would be doing. Except that Thor’s approach was, often as not, to punch his way out, and there was nothing to hit down here. Perhaps he could reach for Mjolnir and summon some lightning, although in what way that would be helpful, he couldn’t guess …

He felt something against his ankle again, and thought it only his hammer until he felt the thing move. He hissed in disgust, wondering what foul and potentially venomous creature was down here with him, and kicked out in fury with both bound feet.

“ _Ouch!_ ” cried the creature, and suddenly the pit burst into bright illumination. Thor winced, squinting his eyes against the painful glare – and there was Loki, crouching in the muck in front of him. One hand was holding a palmful of faintly-green light; the other was massaging his ribcage.

“Loki?” Thor could only blink in bewilderment.

“You _kicked_ me,” Loki complained, still kneading at his ribs. “I come to rescue you and you _kick_ me!”

“I didn’t know it was you!”

“What other snake could it have been?”

“It could’ve been an actual snake, you idiot!” But Thor was grinning broadly now, aches and pains forgotten in his delight. “But I’m glad it was you, Brother. You’ve no idea. How did you find me?”

“I followed you,” Loki informed him, straightening slightly within the crouch. He waved his hand, and his palmful of light rose into the air, hovering above them in a faintly glowing orb. Then he twisted his wrist, conjuring a dagger. “Move forward so I can get to your wrists.” Thor obliged, and Loki moved around him, beginning to saw at the ropes binding his brother’s wrists. “I knew you were planning some foolish errand to ‘prove’ yourself and your abilities. I didn’t think you’d go so far as to sneak onto Svartalfheim itself. No one comes here but outcasts and thieves – and they certainly don’t stay once their dirty work is done.” He swore softly under his breath. “These ropes have been enchanted. No wonder you couldn’t break out of them.” He shifted, adjusting his kneeling stance in the muck, and began to attack the ropes with renewed vigor, whispering spells beneath his breath as he worked.

Thor’s delighted smile faded as he watched Loki from the corner of his eye. When the dagger at last began to cut through the rope’s thick fibers, Thor twisted his head to look at him. “You didn’t truly follow me, did you?”

“What?” Loki asked, distracted, and then flashed a quick grin of satisfaction as the ropes fell away. “Got it!”

Thor sighed in relief, bringing his aching arms around to rub at the soreness in his arms and wrists. Loki had already moved to begin cutting at the ropes around his ankles, but Thor was not so easily dissuaded. “It was the sigil, wasn’t it?” said Thor. “I know it was. You heard it, just like you said you would.”

“What sigil? What’re you talking about?” Loki appeared to still not really be listening, busy muttering spells over the ropes in between cuts with the dagger. 

“The sigil! Your mark! I drew it –” But Thor’s voice drew soft, because he’d twisted around to point at the spot behind him where he’d drawn the symbol, only to find the dirt undisturbed. He hadn’t drawn it deep, true, but there was no indication he’d drawn it at all. Perhaps he was looking in the wrong spot, or maybe his twisting movements had wiped it out again – 

“Thor, hold _still,_ ” said Loki impatiently, grasping at his boot to still him. “There’s no telling when whatever marauders took you might come back –”

“If you followed me,” said Thor, “Shouldn’t you have seen who I was fighting? Who captured me?”

“I lost sight of you more than once. Took me awhile to track you down. _There._ ” The last of the ropes fell away, and Loki came to his feet, reaching down a hand to help Thor up. “Come on. There can’t be much time.”

“What’s your plan for getting out of here, then?” said Thor, and was surprised to hear the slight note of disappointment in his voice. Certainly, he was grateful that his brother had found him, regardless of how he had managed it. Only – was Loki lying to him? Why would he lie? And if it _wasn’t_ a lie – 

“It was far easier to come down as a snake than it will be to climb up it as an Asgardian.” Loki eyed the smooth sides of the pit. “Perhaps I should resume form?”

“If you think you’re not up to climbing out in the normal way, Brother, perhaps you should.” Grinning -- and ignoring Loki’s mock-affronted glare -- Thor reached down to grasp Mjolnir’s handle tight. An answering roll of thunder sounded from the distant skies. “We can always just fly our way out.”

“If we must,” said Loki, looking pained. 

“You love it.”

“I hate it. Hanging onto you like a wounded bird. It’s humiliating.”

“If you’d rather I do a bit of ‘Get Help’ and just toss you through the top, that can be arranged.”

Loki groaned. “I’ll settle for flying, then.”

Thor grinned, but then felt the expression fading once more. “Really, Brother. Tell me how you found me. Did you really follow me here from the beginning? It had nothing to do with – with any other magic?”

“You had need of me and I came,” said Loki. “Does anything else matter?”

Thor hesitated, but felt the smile pulling at his lips almost in spite of himself. “I suppose not.” He gave Loki’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Always,” said Loki.

Then Thor hoisted Mjolnir and flew them both into the skies.


	3. After The Dark World

“Well,” said Thor, setting down his hammer as he dragged himself to a standstill, “I am going to call it. No Infinity Stones here.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, and was mildly disappointed to see that his surroundings had not changed. Overhead, the nursery of stars continued on its slow and inexorable rotation, making it impossible to tell if he was seeing the spin of the planet or the turning of the stars themselves. Between stars, he could make out the deep blackness of space – but so many newborn suns hung ablaze that it looked a strange combination of night and day.

Beneath his feet, the lapping waves were so perfectly reflecting the sky overhead that he seemed to be walking over starlight, rather atop an endless sea. He looked down at the waves cresting just against his boots and swallowed hard. He had been thirsty for hours, but whatever this ocean was made out of, it was most assuredly not water – salt or otherwise.

Given his feet’s refusal to break through the surface, he had no reason to think it even a liquid.

There was a sudden explosive sound, more a splinter than a splash. Thor gave a cry and jumped, then cursed softly under his breath. The large-eyed, many-limbed creature staring back at him from where it now braced itself halfway out of the waves was the dozenth he’d seen like it, and none of them had yet to do anything but stare. And yet their appearances startled him every time.

“I’ve visited quite a few worlds over the last few years,” he said to the creature. “I have to admit – I know it’s beautiful and all, but this one is rather unsettling.”

The creature cocked its head at him, as if considering. Thor could see himself reflected in the pools of its eyes, and bit back an unfair shutter. 

Then the creature pushed three of its claws against the top of the waves and shot back into the depths. It left behind it an oozing gash in the sea’s surface that gradually refilled with each rippling wave.

Thor shuttered again.

Then, not knowing what else to do, he picked up Mjolnir and started walking once more, his boots leaving soft footprints in the surface of the waves. 

He’d come here because he’d heard from a galactic official, an arms smuggler, and no less than four merchants that an Infinity Stone was to be found on this planet – known, appropriately enough, as Backwater. The tales had not been in agreement as to which Stone he was to find; most of his sources had claimed not to be sure themselves, although both the smuggler and the eldest of the merchants had assured him that it was the Soul Stone. A boon that would’ve been, had it been true, but Thor would’ve been happy to uncover any of the lost Stones, or even any further leads.

But there was nothing on this planet. Nothing for him, at any rate. Nothing to find.

And the truth was worse than that, wasn’t it? The truth was that there had been nothing to find anywhere he had gone. He’d grown aimless – perhaps _desperate_ was a better word – desperate and alone. The nightmares were getting worse, and though he had spent the last two years trying so hard to find answers, he’d been left with nothing to show for it. 

“I suppose I’ve lost my way,” he murmured, stopping again and making a slow turn in place as he surveyed his surroundings once more. “Certainly lost.” He could feel the truth of it leaking into him, forcing him to admit what he’d been trying so hard to ignore.

He had no idea how to get out of this place.

He was beyond even Heimdall’s reach here. He had, at least, asked the little smuggling crew to stop by the drop-off point on their return trip from Qo'noS, true. Unfortunately, even if they honored their promise (he had, after all, made them a promise of his own for a second payday should they return) – it did him no good if he couldn’t find his way back to the proper coordinates.

And how could one find coordinates on a world without direction?

His breath came out in a little huff, and he dropped to his knees, trying to tamp down the sudden rush of panic welling in his chest. 

“I think I’m in real trouble this time, Brother,” he murmured quietly. “I think I’m well and truly lost.” He had taken to speaking to Loki aloud during his time traveling – perhaps a byproduct of having spent so many months alone. He’d felt silly at first, addressing him like that, but their people did say that the souls in Valhalla could hear any prayers offered to them. His brother had done much wrong, but surely – after what he’d sacrificed – surely he’d found his way home?

The tears that welled in his eyes surprised him. He’d taken time to mourn both Frigga and Loki, and had thought himself past the worst of the hurt of their losses. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of the exhaustion that came at the sorry end of a futile quest.

Or perhaps, having become lost, he was finally ready to admit he’d been running _from_ as much as he’d been running _to._

“You know,” said Thor, almost conversationally, reaching out a hand to trace idly through the tensile surface of the waves, “If you were here, Brother – I wouldn’t be lost. You’d have some secret pathway to reveal or magic trick up your sleeve. We’d probably be halfway to finding all the Infinity Stones by now. Of course, then you’d probably run off with the Tesseract again, and we’d have to deal with all of that.”

The thought made him chuckle, just a bit – and the laughter seemed to loosen something in his chest. Before he quite knew how it happened, he found that he was softly weeping, his arms wrapped around themselves, his throat aching so sharply he could scarcely breathe. He leaned forward, hands spreading and sinking just slightly into the surface of the waves.

“If you were here,” he whispered, the tears squeezing from his eyes, “I wouldn’t be _lost._ ”

He stayed like that for a long time, his head bowed, hands clenching into fists against the solid yet undulating waves. Then he wiped at his eyes and came to his feet, drawing in a shaky breath. 

And found himself face-to-face with one of the many-armed creatures of the deep. Only this one was standing fully out of the water – and right in front of him.

Thor gave a little shriek, and the creature jolted back, both of them leaping away from each other in panic. Thor raised Mjolnir just slightly, and the alien froze in place, its huge dark eyes staring at the hammer as if transfixed. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” said Thor, lowering Mjolnir again as he held up the other hand in placation. “All right? Everything’s all right. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to find my way home.”

One claw came up to scratch the creature’s long, sinuous neck, while two other appendages wrapped around each other in a somewhat agitated motion. Thor found himself giving a watery smile.

“My brother used to do that,” he said, gesturing at the creature’s hands. “When he was nervous. Am I making you nervous?”

The creature blinked at him. It shifted its stance slightly, staring at the surface of the water beside Thor, and Thor turned to see the tear in the gelatinous waves where the alien had broken through to the surface. 

And beside it, scratched crudely into the water’s surface, was …

Thunderstruck – if the pun can be forgiven – Thor dropped to his knees once more. He stared at the lightly etched pattern of Loki’s sigil, already beginning to dissipate in the undulating current. But there could be no doubting what it was. 

“I must’ve drawn it without realizing I was doing it,” murmured Thor. He looked up and grinned into the huge dark eyes of the alien, which had thrummed over on its collection of limbs and was now watching him with a kind of polite fascination. “And once I did, you came along.”

For the first time, the creature made a kind of noise. Or perhaps _noise_ was not the right word. He felt it, more than heard it, although it somehow put him in mind of music all the same. Was he sensing its vibrations through the air? Or was it a form of telepathy?

Either way. “Hello,” he said in return, and smiled as he held out his hand. The creature leaned back just slightly, but then seemed to gather itself. It reached out with one rippling appendage – not quite a claw, not quite a tentacle – and wrapped it around his proffered hand.

And then the creature began to pull him towards the crack in the waves from which it had risen.

“Whoa-who – wait! Wait, wait, _wait!_ ”

Thor grasped at the appendage and pulled – carefully at first, trying to be gentle, then with increasing alarm. The underside of the phalanges were covered in some type of miniature suction cups, and all pulling at it did was make him feel like he was trying to rip out his own hair by the roots. It certainly did not dissuade the creature, which continued doggedly forward. Thor planted his feet and pulled back, only to find himself being dragged along the smooth surface like a jet skier being towed by a spider-shaped boat.

“Seriously, I am not all right with this!” Thor yelped, still tugging at the creature’s hold on him. “See here, you little mutant octopus –”

At the lip of the crack, the creature seemed to fold in on itself, limbs contracting to change its shape from an exploding starburst into a narrowly streamlined diamond. It slipped through the crack in the waves with a slender ease that would’ve been geometrically fascinating to watch – was it possible it had shifted into the second dimension during the process? – if Thor hadn’t been so busy panicking. 

“Really – I didn’t mean to bother you – _Argh!_ ” His hand had been drawn through the crack, beneath the surface, and he felt neither water nor gelatinous plasma. All he felt was a numbing coldness – colder than ice, colder than death.

The coldness, it seemed, of the Void.

And still the creature was drawing him in – now to the elbow, now to the shoulder. He struggled, trying to brace against the pull, but there was no purchase to be found on the twisting, tossing surface. The coldness shot up his chest, reaching for his throat.

“Really, it’s not necessary, I’m sure I can find my own way back ‘kay-thanks-very-much!” The last words came out in a splutter, and then he only had time to grab for a breath and call Mjolnir towards him.

And his head was drawn into the depths – 

And there was cold. Absolute cold. Not just an absence of heat, but of sound. Of light. Of form. Of being.

He floated in it, suspended, as unmoored from his own body as his body was unmoored from everything else. He tried to breathe, but could find no lungs to draw air into, much less a mouth to open or a throat to gasp.

The darkness swirled around him, twisting, _squeezing_ him – 

And then – 

The light exploded back into existence. Thor gasped and began to cough, squeezing his eyes shut so that he couldn’t see whatever it was he was gagging back out of his throat, knowing only that it wasn’t water and that he didn’t want to know what it was. 

When at last, after much choking and sputtering, he dared to open his eyes again, he saw he was crouched on a stretch of land, silver sands spilling the length of the coastline as far as the eye could see. The sands tapered off not at water’s edge, but rather at the edge of the planet itself, spilling away like a waterfall into the depths. Close to where he knelt, a golden bridge arced away from the coastline and bent gracefully over to the waves of the endless churning ocean. Overhead, a single star, far closer and brighter than the others, washed the sky in golden light.

He wiped a hand at the back of his mouth – it came back with a smear of ink-like black that he tried to ignore – and sat back on his heels, dumbfounded once more.

He was back at the rendezvous point. Unbelievably. Impossibly. Dragged by an alien sea creature through a planetary wormhole, at the apparent behest of … 

No. _No._ It was not possible. Loki was dead. It was a coincidence. Had to be.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. And frowned, as he reached instinctively for what wasn’t there. 

He’d summoned Mjolnir just before the waves had closed over him. Surely – 

There was another odd musical trill, and Thor turned, just in time to see the large-eyed creature bobbing in the waves on the other side of the bridge. With a noise like a whistle, it tossed its many limbs into the air – and his hammer burst from the waves, singing towards him. He had just enough self-possession to reach up in the air and catch it before it could smack him in the face. 

“Thank you!” called Thor, waving, and the alien bobbed its head before sinking beneath the shuttering waves. Thor hesitated, tossing Mjolnir lightly in his hand. 

“It’s risky to say aloud, Brother,” he murmured, “But I thank you. For showing me the way home."

An impossible hope. A foolish one. 

He'd hold to it anyway.

Shaking his head, Thor turned back just in time to see the smugglers’ spaceship arcing overhead as it began its descent to the beach below. Smiling faintly, Thor began to trudge through the shifting sands to meet them.


	4. After Ragnarok

“Get out!” Thor roared, making himself heard over the blaring klaxons. “ _Get everyone out!_ ”

Without waiting to see if he was being obeyed, Thor dropped to his knees beside the nearest access panel. Despite the flashing emergency lights and shrieking alarms, most of the readouts in the engine room were displaying as frustratingly normal. Which meant there was nothing to indicate what had gone wrong, where the initial problem might lie. 

Why the core’s containment field was collapsing.

Frowning, he ripped off the cover of the access panel, digging through wires and circuits. If he could just find – 

“If it’s truly a cascading failure,” said a familiar voice from just over his shoulder, speaking with an enviable calm, “you’re hardly going to be able to pinpoint the starting point in time.” 

“Loki,” he growled, without bothering to turn, “Not now. It’s chaos out there. I need you to get everyone organized and safely off this ship. _Do it._ ”

“Would that be an order from my brother?” The voice was amused. “Or my king?”

“Loki –”

“Because either way, the chances of me listening to you are not high.” 

“How do you manage to be so damn annoying even at a time like this?” Thor came to his feet, moving to the next access panel and dropping down again. “I shouldn’t have any emotions to spare for _annoyed._ ”

“Decades of practice.” Loki grasped onto Thor’s shoulder, and Thor could hear something in his voice shift. “Brother, it’s too late. You can’t save this ship.”

“I can try.”

Loki made a noise of frustration. “You’ll just get yourself killed.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

It was Loki’s turn to sound annoyed. “ _Thor –_ ”

Thor dropped the mass of wires and turned to where his brother had crouched down beside him. “Loki, we barely have enough supplies on the ship itself. If our people have to make the journey in escape pods, survival will be that much tougher. If I can save this ship, I have to try. And if I fail, at least our people will have a better chance out there than they will in here.”

“No one has to leave the ship!” said Loki, and there was just a hint of desperation forming around the set of his mouth. “We could eject the core –”

“And leave us dead in the water. This is not a populated area of space. Even our hails are going unanswered. We’d be long dead of starvation before we’d be discovered.” Thor shook his head. “I have to try to stop this, don’t you see? I have to _try._ ”

Loki’s mouth set, in that particular expression he wore when he wanted to argue but knew he hadn’t a leg to stand on. “Then let me stay and help –”

“No. If something does happen to me, the people will need you. You’re the Savior of Asgard, don’t forget.” He smiled a bit, then reached out and grasped his brother’s shoulder in turn. “I can still fight this. I don’t have time to fight you, too. _Please,_ Loki.”

Loki hesitated, then nodded tightly. “All right. I – all right.” He came to his feet. “I’ll get them to safety.”

“Thank you,” said Thor, hearing the gratitude and relief in his own voice. He’d already turned back to the panel when he heard Loki’s voice calling to him from somewhere halfway down a corridor.

“ _You better stay in one piece or I’ll kill you, Thor!_ ”

Thor chuckled, even as he came to his feet and hurried to the next panel. And then the next, and the next. The unfortunate truth was that there was an excellent chance that his brother was right. The systems around the ship were failing one after the other, and it was only a matter of time before the core containment field collapsed or the emergency systems failed entirely. And then – 

He squashed the thought down. There was a chance he’d run out of time. There was also a chance he would not.

When he’d checked every panel, he sank back on his heels, thinking frantically. The problem was with the containment field; that much was certain. And yet he’d run out of options here.

He ran down the corridors, passing streaming lines of his fellow Asgardians headed the other way. Towards the escape pods. He caught a glimpse of the Valkyrie leading one group, Korg and Miek with another, and felt a surge of gratitude for them all. No matter what happened, the people would be as safe as they could make them.

When he reached the bridge, he momentarily drew up short. Red lights were flashing at every console, the klaxons still blaring their high-pitched warnings. The room was hazy with smoke, though he couldn’t quite make out where it might be coming from. 

_Good to know the environmental controls have already started to go._ He hesitated, then made for the nearest console, his fingers flying over the panel keys. His brow creased as he studied the readouts, hurrying over to the next console and repeating the process. Then he straightened, a sense of horror overtaking him.

The glitch was here, in the bridge’s mainframe. Sending a command to the reactor core’s containment field, causing it to fail. He saw the fix, now. The solution.

A solution which he could not manage on his own.

In desperation, he hit the nearest comms panel, only to be met with silence. Comms were down. Of course they were. He groaned, hit the panel again; still nothing. 

“Thor to all points!” he said, holding the comms button, knowing it was futile. “If anyone hears, please respond!”

Only the shrieking klaxons answered him. He growled in frustration, pushing away from the comms – and then froze as the idea jolted hold of him. 

It had worked twice before, hadn’t it? He could claim there to be rational explanations, but – hadn’t it _worked?_

Before he could stop himself, before he could come up with reasons not to even bother try, he shoved the doubt away and approached one side wall. He clenched his hands at his sides, feeling the energy begin to crackle across his knuckles and down his fingers.

He raised his hand, and the microburst of electricity flared from beneath his fingertips. He drew the sigil in the air just above the thick metal plate of the ship’s inner hull, and the lightning burned into the plate in a scorched fury of melting metal and crackling electricity. It took him only a few moments, and when it was done, he took a heartbeat to examine his work – then turned and raced for the engine room without looking back. Without letting himself think.

Thor dashed back into the engine room and swore. The containment shield was beginning to distort, weak points appearing in the glowing white energy field. He moved as close to it as he dared and then waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying not to give into the urge to pace. Trying not to let himself doubt. _C’mon, you … you promised me all those years ago, now come_ on.

And then Loki’s voice, from somewhere overhead: _“I’m on the bridge. What do you need me to do?”_

Thor bit back the cheer, but didn’t bother to hold back the huge grin spreading over his face. “There’s a glitch in the bridge’s mainframe; it’s sending a signal here to the engine room that’s weakening the core’s containment field. I’m not sure what’s causing it; maybe a virus, maybe some sort of glitch that was only ever going to be a matter of –”

“ _Thor. What do you need me to_ do?”

“On my mark, get ready to switch off the main computers. It’s the only way to wipe out the signal collapse. It should take about thirty seconds for the entire cycle to reboot; then you restart it.”

There was the fraction of a pause. “ _The core won’t last thirty seconds outside of a containment field. It won’t last two._ ”

“I’m going to contain the core,” Thor said steadily. “Thirty seconds. I can handle the force for thirty seconds.” There was more silence. “Do it, Brother. I trusted you, didn’t I? It’s your turn to trust me.”

This time, Loki didn’t hesitate. “ _On your mark._ ”

“All right.” Thor stepped back. The energy was already surging over him, the room taking on that white-hot glow that came when the lightning filled his veins. “In three – two – one – _now!_ ”

With a shutter, the containment field flickered out of existence. The lights of the engine room were gone, and for a fraction of a heartbeat, the room was illuminated only by the flickering core. Then electricity surged from Thor’s hands, rippling down his shoulders and arms, across his chest, hotter than the surface of Asgard’s sun. The lightning flowed around the reactor core, holding the power in place. He gritted his teeth, suddenly aware that he’d never truly sustained a burst of lightning for more than a few seconds.

The moments ticked by. The core was beginning to fight him, trying to break out of the electric cage he’d fashioned around it. Thor clenched his hands tighter, feeling the sparks flowing from his eyes, the fire flowing in his veins. For the first time, the effort of it was nearly painful. The engine room was alight in the flickering bursts of electricity, light and shadow in stark relief. It took him a moment to realize that the flickering light meant he was beginning to lose his grasp.

“ _Hold on, Brother,_ ” came his brother’s voice over the comms. No. Not the comms. “ _Just a few more seconds –_ ”

 _I won’t make it,_ he almost said, but then reached down past that into some hidden well of determination. 

“For Asgard,” he said instead, and _pushed._

The renewed burst of lightning that ripped through him was nearly a relief. It seemed to burn the pain out of him – and if he was dimly aware of it burning the leather of his armor in the process too, well, that seemed a small price to pay. Some corner of him was aware of the sound of the forcefield, surging back to life beneath the flare of his own power – and he lowered his hands, letting the energy die out as his legs gave out beneath him. He thought, after that, that he heard someone calling out to him in a somewhat annoyed voice, but then all was quiet and blackness.

* * * * *

“You are damn lucky that you lived through that,” grumbled Loki, when everything had more or less settled down for the moment. “I really would’ve had to kill you.”

Thor grinned, sipping at the hot soup Korg had brought him. They were sitting in Thor’s quarters, Loki perched on the edge of Thor’s bed, the better to glare at him. “Never mind that,” said Thor. “You want to tell me how you knew I needed you to come back?”

Loki snorted and waved an airy hand. “I never left, you sod. As if I’d leave you behind to face such dangers on your own.”

“So, it had nothing to do with the sigil I drew onto the wall of the bridge?” asked Thor almost idly. 

“There’s nothing on the wall of the bridge, Thor. I checked.” Loki’s voice was no less unconcerned, but Thor thought he caught just a flicker of some other emotion in his face.

“Perhaps it vanished after it served its purpose.” Thor glanced at Loki out of the corner of his good eye. 

“Or perhaps you imagined doing it.” Loki leaned back, affecting disinterest. “Not impossible, given the stressful circumstances, wouldn’t you say?”

“If you say so, Brother.” Thor chuckled, then yawned hugely. He hadn’t meant it as a hint, but Loki stood anyway, taking the empty soup bowl and giving his brother a light squeeze to the shoulder. Loki was halfway to the door when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the room, speaking over his shoulder.

“Such a call, when it is made,” said Loki quietly, “is always an act of faith. There can be no confirmations, because there can be no guarantees. That’s the nature of trust … or so I’ve been told.”

“Of course,” said Thor, yawning again. He settled back into the bunk, closing his good eye. “You know the comms system was down when I heard you from the bridge, right?”

“Good night, Brother,” said Loki, and Thor could hear the smile in his voice. Thor smiled himself, and drifted into sleep.


	5. After the War

His brother had been dead before, he’d told the Rabbit, and it was true. He did not know why this time felt different.

Perhaps because he’d lost so much more.

Thor sat on the edge of the cliff – the same cliff he and Loki had sat upon with Odin. _With Father._ It was a moonless night, the only illumination coming from the faint wisps of lightning he sent dancing across his hand. The familiar sensation was a comfort, in a time when few other things were. 

The rage had long side burned away, but where he had excepted to find grief in its wake, all he found was numbness.

The war was still ongoing. Rhodes and Banner oversaw relief efforts, while Rogers and Romanoff plotted defenses in case the Mad Titan returned. (And he would return, or else the Avengers would hunt him down and finish him; Thor was certain of that.) Stark, half-mad with grief, whispered of something more, though none could convince him to reveal what plans he spent his nights and days concocting in the depths of his workshops. None of them really had the heart to much try. 

That left Thor to find what scant few of his people remained, scattered across the cosmos and hopefully waiting to be found. But he’d come here first to say goodbye. 

Goodbye to his home. To his parents. To those of his people he hadn’t been able to save. To the dear friend of his heart. And to his brother. 

Again and always, to his brother.

“Dammit, Loki,” he whispered, feeling the misery weighing upon him. He stared out to where he knew the sea to be; the night was too dark to make out the horizon, though he could smell the salt in the air. “You were not supposed to die. I was not supposed to have to mourn you. Not again.”

 _Dammit._ He’d thought he had no more tears to shed. 

“Thor?” said the gruff voice of the Rabbit behind him. “You ready?”

Thor hastily wiped the back of his hand across his good eye. “Suppose I am.” He turned to smile at Rocket beside him.

“You sure? We, ah – we got some time left before we gotta get outta here.” Rocket turned to scuff awkwardly at the dirt with one paw. “If you need a little longer to do whatever it is you came out here to do …” Then he paused, staring at something in the dirt.

“I don’t really know what I came out here to do,” admitted Thor.

“Draw, apparently.” Rocket indicated the symbol he’d found scratched into the dirt. “You do this?”

“I started to,” said Thor. “Couldn’t quite bring myself to finish it.”

“I … okay.” Rocket looked from the drawing to Thor and back again. “This scribbly thing – it mean something to you?”

 _Not anymore,_ Thor started to say, but something in his throat stopped him. 

“It was my brother’s,” he said instead. “I used to use it to call for him when I had need of him.”

Rocket looked down. “Oh,” was all he said for a long moment. Then his ears pricked slightly – half in sympathy, it seemed, and half in curiosity. “Did it work?”

Thor smiled. Three times it had worked, hadn’t it? Once could be luck, twice a coincidence. But three times? Three times was truth. Only – 

“What is it the humans say?” he wondered aloud. “‘Third time’s the charm.’”

Three times. Three deaths. Perhaps the magic of the sigil was gone. 

Perhaps Loki was, too. 

“C’mon, Rabbit,” said Thor, climbing to his feet. Rocket, apparently understanding no further explanation was forthcoming, scrabbled after him. “We have a ship to catch.”

“… be right there,” said Rocket, doubling back to once again study the drawing in the dim light of the oncoming dawn. It wasn’t hard to see what Thor had left unfinished, at least not to him – it was just there, to the left, a break in one curving flourish. All he’d have to do – 

Rocket darted a glance up, just to be sure, and saw that Thor was still striding heavily away from him, heading for the town. Then he stretched out a paw and hastily drew the last line, finishing the symbol. He drew back, took a quick glance to assure himself of his handiwork, then hightailed it after Thor.

“Hey, wait for me!”

He scampered after his companion, and so missed the moment when the dawn broke and the sunlight touched the sigil’s edge.

* * * * *

In faith, the call was made. In faith, it may be answered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _For my father._


End file.
